Comes and Goes in Waves
by CreativelyDeadly
Summary: Based off the promo for ep 2.05. What will happen when Allie and Jane are partnered together?
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Blindspot or the characters. Just using them for my own fun.

Based on the the promo for 2.05.

This is my first fanfic. I was planning this as a standalone solo fic, but then as I was writing, I thought about the many facets in which I can continue it. Let me know what you think!

She didn't know why she was there, why she was joining them on this tattoo case. They were in a professional building, sweeping for their target. When they had entered the building, they had separated into groups, Naz and Kurt went on the elevator to the direct floor; Reade and Zapata went up the staircase in the back of the building; while she was paired with Jane, to go up the front staircase. They were trying to block off the exits from this suspects.

They were members of the Irish mob. They had already been in pursuit of him, but he had already faked them out once; slipping away without being seen. Patterson had locked in on a burner cell that he had been using, with the help of Naz's contacts at the NSA.

She was at least thankful that it was a high-stress mission, so there was no room for small talk with Jane. They were both focused on clearing each level of the staircase, as well as watching each other's backs when necessary. One of the suspects, surprised them by jumping over the railing, knocking her down. She quickly recovered. But she watched Jane pulled the person off of her with cat-like reflexes that quickly incapacitated the individual. "I'm glad that we're on the same side." She remembers saying, smiling. They continued their way up the staircase, listening to Patterson give more detailed information of the suspects location over the communication lines.

Weller and Naz were already exchanging bullets with the adversaries. As they heard the warnings from the other members of their team, it fell on deaf ears when two bullets rang out in the staircase, causing echoes. She felt something warm spreading throughout her as she watched Jane rattle off a series of bullets into the perpetrator's head. She watched as everything slowed. Her life didn't flash before her eyes. Her eyes were trained directly on Jane, who was now trying to tend to her. The warmth was now a raging fire within her. All of her nerve endings were dancing, causing an insurmountable amount of pain flooding her system; where she could no longer handle it.

He arrived at the hospital a while after the ambulance due to the threat of other adversaries. Running through the doors of the Emergency Department, he slams his badge down on the desk, causing the receptionist to jump out of her seat in shock. "Allison Knight, US Marshal was brought in by ambulance, I need to know where she is right now!" His voice booming inside the lobby of the building. The receptionist rapidly covered the keyboard, searching for the information desired.

"Sir, she's in surgery right now with Dr. Ross. You can go upstairs to the OR waiting area, 3rd floor." She said cautiously.

He snatched his badge and ran to the stairwell, up to the third floor.

When he entered the waiting room, he noticed Jane standing there at the double doors. HOSPITAL PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. She was standing there in front of the door, her vest still on, blood still covering her hands.

"Jane," he said, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

She remained stone still, did not even flinch at the contact.

"Jane" he repeated, the agony in his voice reaching the deep recesses of her consciousness. Her head dropping. "Any news?"

She shook her head.

His pulse was racing.

"Two bullets, one hit the plate of her vest, by the shoulder..." her voice was so raw it sounded foreign, even to her ears "...the other one… penetrated just below her vest.." Her voice breaking as she said it. "I'm so sorry Kurt, I'm so sorry."

His head hung, trying not to think of the worst case scenario right now. He has always failed the women in his life, the ones that mean something to him. He has never been able to keep them safe. This was just another prime example of that. He leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor, tears starting to trail down his face. The little one; a piece of him and a piece of her. He couldn't even keep his own child safe.

He was vaguely aware of a hand resting on his shoulder. The warmth and security that it provided caused his heart to throb even harder.

"Kurt…"

He heard his voice being called, but he was too consumed with his thoughts to acknowledge it.

"Kurt.." She called his name again, this time gripping his shoulder for sensory input to draw him out.

He looked up at her, but didn't look at her highly expressive eyes. He couldn't look at those hazel eyes, because he knew that they would give him far more information than he wanted to know. They had this silent communication down pat, without even trying.

"She… she…" Jane couldn't get the words out, she hung her head as well.

Kurt let his head fall back against the wall, with a loud thud. They heard more of their team rounding the corner from the elevator.

Zapata and Reade came around the corner, clearly searching for them. The moment they started pestering Kurt with questions for updates, Jane slowly started to slink away. The dynamic shift that occurred when she rejoined this team has not lessened. When all the members of the unit are assembled, it's an overload of distrust, apathy, anger, even in this setting.

She watched as Zapata and Reade supported Kurt over to the couches in the waiting area. Jane was frozen, she couldn't snap herself out of the trance of watching Kurt's emotional breakdown as he explained to the others what she had told him. Her heart throbbed; anxiety building inside her. She slipped down the hallway, and down the staircase.

Only an hour had passed since his arrival. An excruciatingly long hour. He couldn't believe this, just as he thought he could have the best of both worlds, work and a family. Albeit, an unconventional family. But now the thought of that became too painful, knowing that the longer Allie was in surgery, the less likely the baby could survive.

Jane sat in the stairwell, lost in her thoughts. The whole event playing right before her eyes, even though she did not want it to. The pain the consumed her as she remembers the echoing sound of the bullets being fired off; hearing the hiss from Allie as the one penetrated her abdomen.

Her thoughts warp back to that morning, when she saw the most radiant smile gracing Kurt's face. He had informed the team of the news of a new little life. Jane's heart sunk deeper, a pit growing in her stomach causing her core to burn. She was happy that he was happy. His demeanor had been constantly fluctuating since her return; anger would be present one moment, but then concern and compassion the next. But the smile that she saw, was pure.

When she had a moment alone with him, she told him how he will make a great father. Trying so hard to keep her own composure while doing so. She honestly believed the words that she was saying. That he would make a great father; however, the bile rose each time she thought of him and Allie.

Her mind flashed back to the blood, all the blood that she couldn't stop from seeping through Allie's clothes in the stairwell of the office building. Her stomach lurched at the memory of all the blood, the blood that was now dried on her hands. She lost it, her stomach forcing her to heave in the stairwell. That voice in her head started running off, _it's all your fault, you allowed her to get shot at._ That voice kept going, her level of guilt rising, realizing that they were partners at that moment and she didn't react fast enough. Now Allie was fighting for her life, and the life of the baby.

"M'am, are you alright? Do you need help?"

Jane looked up, a man in hospital attire was standing at the base of that set of stairs. Her hands were shaking with the anxiety of the entire situation. He stepped up the stairs, "let's go get you cleaned up." He said, gently touching her elbow to guide her to stand and walk with him.

Her head still hung down as he guided her through the hallways. Settling at a bed station, he grabbed a few items from the racks next to it, placing them in front of her. "Here are some wipes to get the blood off."

She whispered her thanks.

"You came in with the US Marshal, right?" He asked quietly.

Her head snapped up

"I was one of the interns that responded to the ambulance in the pit. I remember you coming out of there."

While he spoke, she was using the wipes to scrub off the dried blood. Furiously rubbing, willing it to come off faster. Once satisfied, she turned to him, "Thank you for your help," she said with a small smile. "But I have to get back to the waiting room."

He gathered the remnants of the items left behind, as she had turned and started towards the elevators. "I hope she pulls through," he said, as she stepped onto the elevator.

Pressing the button for the OR floor, her head hung as it felt as though an eternity passed before the doors opened. She stepped off and turned the corner to see a hospital personnel, covered in blue drapings, walking over to the growing group of US Marshals and FBI agents.

She watched as Kurt jumped out of his seat when he saw the surgeon approach. She was too far away to hear, but her legs were frozen in place, not allowing her to move closer. She observed the body language as the surgeon started to speak and she watched Kurt crumble. He slid back down into the chair, his forearms hitting his knees, his head bowed down, and his body wracking with sobs.

Jane tried to move forward but her body wouldn't move. Her churning stomach started to revolt again, her legs taking her backwards, away from the sight in front of her, away from the reality that she was responsible for the torment that Kurt was now experiencing. Her legs kept backing up, increasing the distance. She had to force her body to turn and continue walking away.

She couldn't stand that she continued to cause him pain. She was not Taylor, his long lost childhood friend. She couldn't protect Allie. Or the baby.

Zapata and Reade were there, keeping an eye on Kurt, who seemed to turn into a statue. He hadn't moved since They each attempted to get him to move, without any success.

Naz felt the eerie silence as she disembarked the elevator. She already heard the result. When she walked around the corner, she gained a glance from Reade, who started making his way over to her.

"He isn't responding, nor moving. We need to get back to interrogate the members of the mob that we were able to detain."

Naz always looked pensive, but as she looked at Kurt, sitting there, she couldn't help but allow emotion to taint her face. "Leave him be, I'll talk to him, or get Dr. Borden to come here." She sighed, "The three of you should get back to the office, internal affairs wants statements on the excursion."

Reade sighed as he turned around to collect Zapata.

"Where's Jane?"

Reade's step hesitated; Zapata looked up at Naz, then around the waiting room; and Kurt flinched.

Zapata looked at Reade, "I have seen her since we first came in. She was still covered in blood. I had just assumed that she went to go clean up now that we were here." Her head shifted, as if to point toward Kurt.

"Does anyone know if she was cleared medically?"

They all shook their heads. A sinking feeling entering the pits of their stomachs. _Did they miss something? Was Jane hit too, but masking it?_

They were all thinking it, but nobody wanted to voice it.

"Call her before you leave."

Watching the chaos that ensued every time Internal Affairs was present in their office, Reade and Zapata moved over to their desks. The emotional roller coaster, more than they could handle; especially with Jane not replying to their messages. The moment they sat down at their desks, an Internal Affairs officer was calling their names, requesting their presence in the conference room.

 _It was going to be a long evening._ Reade thought as they move towards the officers.

Naz had taken a seat next to Kurt, being a silent supporter for him.

He knew that she was there, but he didn't have the energy to acknowledge her. He didn't want to bother with the trivial, it seemed pathetic at this point.

"Take some time off; get away for a little bit. It'll give you some perspective." Naz suggested with her hand resting on Kurt's shoulder. "I know that it's been a rough year for you and your team, take some time."

Kurt started shaking his head.

"I know that you have this sense of obligation to the FBI and your team, but you are no use to us if you are falling apart at the seams." She reasoned. "Take some time; gather yourself back together, you'll come back stronger."

Kurt roughly rubbed the anguish and exhaustion from his face. "You're right. I'll come in to give my statement to IA; then I'll take some time off." He sighed, unsure of how to move forward from this.

"This isn't your fault, Kurt. She wanted to go into the field, even after you expressed your concern. This isn't on you."

His heart lurched, knowing that she spoke the truth, but thinking of how this could have been avoided. He couldn't get his mind to stop thinking about the factors that lead him here. He should have been more adamant with her, that she not come into the field with the team. She wasn't even FBI, there was no need for her there.

Naz squeezed his arm, gesturing her head towards the exit.

Kurt nodded. "Just give me a minute, please." And without letting her respond, he stood and walked through the double doors. Walking down the hallway, his blood pressure was steadily increasing, Naz's words were replaying in his mind: " _She wanted to go into the field, even after you expressed your concern."_ His clenched his hands, trying to oust those thoughts, but they continued to plague him as he strode down the hallway.

Coming up to his destination, he stood outside the door, looking through the small window, gathering the courage to enter. After multiple deep breaths, he pushed the door open.

He paused just inside the door, staring at Allie's still form on the bed, hooked up to an array of monitors to keep track of her vitals.


	2. Chapter 2

Second Installment

2 weeks later:

Sitting there, lounging on the couch, bourbon in hand, Kurt couldn't stand listening to another minute of daytime television. He's been back in New York for two days and cannot stomach the idea of sitting around his apartment.

After he left the hospital _that_ night, he proceeded to the office to give his statement to Internal Affairs. He was in and out in under two hours, which was a record for him. From there he caught a flight out to Portland to visit Sarah and Sawyer. They- well, Sarah- had been stunned to silence when they saw him on their doorstep that evening. Sawyer squealed with delight when his uncle walked through the door. That just made Kurt's heart clench with pain. The thought of wanting that each night to come home to coursing through his veins. Kurt rushed in to chase after Sawyer, not that he had to go far. Sawyer ran to jump into his arms. It was a healing and heartbreaking moment.

He spent hours playing games and goofing off with Sawyer. Sarah even let Sawyer play hooky from school one day so that he and Kurt could spend the day together wandering around Portland.

It was moments like these where Kurt wishes that he had a normal nine to five job. One where he could actually schedule vacations and trips, instead of spontaneous ones.

Even the night times were better than being alone. Sarah was good company when he needed a distraction, that is once she pried the information she wanted first.

After a couple nights there, once Sawyer had reluctantly succumb to sleep, Sarah handed Kurt a beer. "Kurt…" She tentatively started, "Do I need to be worried that you're here?" Her voice on edge.

Kurt flopped down onto the couch, processing her question. After a few swigs of beer, he looked across at Sarah who had grabbed a seat. "Depends." He shrugged.

Her mouth, slightly agape.

"I was at the hospital after a mission and-"

"Hospital?" Sarah's voice hitched as she interrupted him.

"I'm fine. It wasn't for me directly." His hands fidgeting with the bottle in his hands. "But I thought that it was time to take some time off. Naz agreed with me, so I caught a flight."

Sarah just stared at him, eyes squinting at him. "What aren't you telling me? Did something happen with Jane?"

Kurt just shook his head, sinking deeper into the couch. He drained his beer and placed the empty bottle on the coffee table between them. He tilted his head back at the rush of emotions that were trying to crawl out.

A couple of minutes had passed, with his hands roughly rubbing his face when Sarah finally snapped. "Stop being so stoic, let it out and let me in, Kurt."

His fists clenched by his side. "Allie was pregnant."

The silence was deafening to Kurt's ears. It was the first time he vocalized those statements. The life that it could have been but was cut too short. All wrapped in one loaded statement. Constant silence surrounded him, to the point where he swears his ears were ringing a deafening tone. _Allie was pregnant._ The words replayed in his head, he felt pricks in his eyes are tears started to collect. He felt the couch sag under the pressure of Sarah moving next to him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it without saying anything.

Tears started to seep out from under his eyelids. "'Kurt…" Sarah started, "What happened?"

"She was insistent in coming out into the field even though she was aware of the pregnancy. She knew the risks, but she went anyways." His breathing was ragged, but he continued. "She was partnered with Jane in the stairwell as Naz and I went up in the elevator." His voice caught and only proceeded when he felt Sarah's thumb stroking the back of his hand. "Naz and I were exchanging fire with some adversaries upstairs, when there were two in the stairwell. I don't know exactly what happened in the stairwell. But Allie was shot, twice. One was blocked by the vest, but the other slipped under the vest into her abdomen. I didn't stay at the office to find out more about the incident, at that point I knew that she had lost the baby, and I needed to get out."

"Kurt, I'm so sorry." Sarah expressed, the hands gripping his one.

"The surgeon informed me that she lost the baby. There was too much internal damage and blood loss for it to survive. No matter how quickly the response, it was unlikely to survive." His voice started to sound robotic, detached from his body, personality, and person.

"How is she doing?" Sarah inquired.

Kurt's body completely tensed. "She's fine, I guess."

Sarah sense the tension rolling off of his body, she broke the contact and meandered into the kitchen, grabbing the scotch and two glasses. Bringing the items back over to the coffee table, she rested them in front of Kurt. "I know that you need this."

She watched as he grabbed the bottle without hesitation and poured them each a glass. She didn't even reach for hers before he had slugged back his share.

They sat in amicable silence for who knows how long. The bottle was about halfway gone, thanks to Kurt, when Sarah became brazen. "Maybe it happened for a reason, maybe it wasn't meant to be."

Kurt's arm, which was lifting his 4th glass to his mouth, froze. Next thing she knew, it was shattered against the coffee table, his booming voice carrying through the apartment, "How could you say that?!"

She flinched at the volume and tone. Shocked by the intensity. But she didn't back down. "I know that this is something that you wanted, and have wanted for a long time. But maybe this happened because it wasn't... " her voice started to trail off, but when he was looking at her expectantly, she meekly finished. "...because it wasn't with the right person."

He just stared at her, his face contorting as the information pieced together and processed.

"I'm just saying, I've seen you and Allie together. Yes, you two get along and have fun. But compare that to the chemistry I see between you and Jane…" The fierceness in her eyes daring him to challenge her. "I've seen the way that you look at her, the fondness on your face, the concern that oozes out of you when she's in harm's way. If it was Jane in the hospital right now, you would not be here. So my opinions still stand, maybe it is a good thing."

After her diatribe, Kurt stood, turned and walked to the spare room in her apartment, slamming the door to erect that physical barrier between them.

Sarah lingered on the couch. She knew that he was hurting. She knew that she was essentially kicking a person while they were already down. But she felt as though her brother needed to hear that, maybe it would help him open his eyes.

After she cleaned the living room of all the empties and broken glass, she crashed into bed. Noticing her phone on the nightstand. She reached for it and scrolled through her contacts. She had yet to actually use this number, but she felt as though someone needed to reach out. She knew the team was having trouble with coping with whatever resulted after the Jane isn't Taylor debacle. Pulling up Jane's number, she wrote: _I hope that you are okay after today. If you need someone to talk to, I'm just a call away._ Satisfied with the message, she sent it, then closed out her lights to fall asleep.

Now Kurt was at his apartment, day drinking and attempting to find something to keep his mind preoccupied. Without much success. His mind kept going between the baby, Jane, and the idea of a family. _Maybe Sarah was right_ , he thought. Shaking his head to wipe that thought away. He got off the couch and strode into the bathroom. It was time to get back to the office.

After making himself presentable, with a freshly pressed suit, he left his apartment and took his normal route to the office.

The feeling of peace starting to seep into him and calm his muscles as he stepped off the elevator into the bullpen. He stood there, observing the chaotic hustle and bustle of the FBI New York Office. People milling about, talking on the phone, delivering files, consulting on cases. This is where he belonged right now. This is where he can find serenity. He took a deep breath and started on his trek to find Naz and his team.

After walking through the offices for twenty minutes, he found them huddled around a computer screen in Patterson's domain. He stood back listening to Patterson give information off on what sounded like a new tattoo case.

"There's no explicit tattoo for that though. This circle on her back, is an old symbol that represents a calendar. There's no direct indication of the date of occurrence, but it could be hidden like the ultraviolet light tattoo on her face when she went into the screening room for the CDC."

"So how do we figure this out then, if we don't have an exact date? We need to know when that drop is going to happen." Zapata stressed.

"The techs and I are going through a series of lighting techniques to see if we can figure it out. I'm sorry, but that's the best we can do under the circumstances."

"That's-" Naz started to speak, but was interrupted.

"Under what circumstances?" Kurt's voice filled the lab, catching everyone off guard. His posture becoming tense as he looks from one member to another and suddenly realizing who isn't there. His fists clenching at his sides, as his heart was slowly cracking with the realization.

Naz stepped forward, "Let's go into your office and talk." She continued forward, meeting his piercing gaze with one of her own.

"Where is she?" His voice as tense as his body. His eyes meeting his team with the same piercing gaze.

"We don't know exactly." Patterson stated, her head tilted down.

A/N: I hope you all liked this second one. I know it was a wee bit emotional. Let me know what you think. :)


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Life got in the way of writing. This chapter is a little short, I had to split it up. I have a feeling that we will all be relying on this site to make it through the hiatus... Happy Reading!

Third Installment

2 months later

Weller was in his office, sitting at his desk, staring down at two manilla folders, signifying case files. One was indeed thicker than the other, which caused great heartache in his chest. A glass of scotch was sitting on his desk, untouched. It was late in the night and he just couldn't bare the thought of going home just yet. Today had been particularly stressful. More stressful than a normal day in the field, or even at the office.

"In pursuit." Weller huffed. He quickened his pace, now sprinting down a sidestreet to catch up with the suspect. He could not believe that out of the three agents currently in the field on this case, he was the one chasing after this suspect. Getting accustom to this new team was going to take a lot of energy. His heart pounding as he gained steps on the fleeing twenty-something man. Watching as the man took the corner down an alley, Weller was hot on his heels, but the moment he turned the corner he almost body slammed into the suspect. The suspect was standing with his arms up as a gun was pointed in his direction from the other side.

"Thought you may need some help." The voice grating on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

Breathing heavily to try to catch his breath. He moved forward, instructing the suspect to put his hands on his head. Weller handcuffed him as Zapata rounded the corner.

Weller handed the suspect over to Zapata and walked with her to the SUV, discussing what to do once they return to the office. Zapata nodded her chin, indicating someone behind him. "See you back at the office. Find Agent Curtis on your way back."

With a sarcastic smirk, Zapata hopped into the vehicle and left.

"Do I get a 'thank you' for helping?"

Weller's whole body tensed. He turned around very slowly, "why were you trying to help? This isn't even your case, or your jurisdiction."

"Naz called in reinforcements when he booked it from the pick up destination."

Weller's hands clenched. "We don't need your help." His voice growled.

"You may not want it, but you do need it. You're down an agent and an asset right now. You have agents fresh off of desk jobs working with you. You need all the help you can get." Her anger starting to seep into her voice. "No matter how pissed you are at me, I'm just trying to help." And with that, she turned to walk to the just parked SUV.

Weller was standing there, processing what was said, watching her retreating form. She was right. With Reade out of the picture for now, they had to pull in newer agents with less experience, just to keep up with their caseload and Sandstorm. In addition to that mess, Jane was still nowhere to be found, which caused problems in more areas than any of them thought. "Allie," he called out.

He watched as she halted and slowly turned to face him. "Thank you."

She nodded and continued on her way to the vehicle.

Weller turned in the opposite direction to start making his way back to his vehicle.

When he reached the NYO, he avoided people in the bullpen and went directly to his office. He was exhausted. He hadn't been sleeping well and managed to expend the majority of his lasting energy on that pursuit. He dropped onto his couch, sighing as it molded around him.

There was a brief knock at his door, rubbing his hands over his face to help himself wake up, he watched Zapata walk in.

"The suspect is in Interrogation one. He's demanding for Jane." She eyed him carefully. Watching him trying to rub the exhaustion from his face. The circles becoming more prominent by the hour. She was worried about him. It's not often that he lost perspective. He has been so wrapped up in trying to find Jane, that he has passed off tattoo cases for her to lead.

The team thought that catching this individual would help them locate Jane. He had been lingering around what was her safe house and outside the FBI office. They did not know how he knew her, but there was definitely something. Now it was just confirmation since he was demanding for her.

Patterson burst in before anything could be said. "So it is definitely Roman. The few sound clips that I have from the microphone that Naz planted on Jane that first time she was going to meet Shepherd. It matches to the sounds byte I took when he was just demanding for Jane. He is Roman. He's a part of Sandstorm."' She spoke a mile a minute, a hopeful expression graced her face at the realization that they could be a step closer.

"Do we really think that Sandstorm is the reason behind her disappearance?" Zapata inquired, a suspicious look etched onto her face. "She could have just left."

"I really don't know anymore." Weller dropped his head into his hands. That had been a thought that crossed his mind on a few occasions. That she just left, without a word. "I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, that she wouldn't just leave. But we haven't been the best to her since her return." His heart ached as he voiced that, the pain shooting out, radiating across his chest.

"We have to keep looking. I know that we do not have much to go on, but this is something." Patterson said. "Plus, since we have him, he could give us intel on Sandstorm. We can detain him now based on the sound bytes, that he's an integral player in whatever their mission is." She tried to reason.

"It's worth a shot!" Weller looked up with a newly found sense of vigor.

Patterson smiled across at Zapata, who just shrugged as Weller left his office.

Weller was watching the video feed of Roman as the sat in Interrogation room one, with his hands handcuffed to the table and his head down resting on it. The posture gave off this sense of defeat. It was not something Weller expected to see; not of someone who was involved in this Sandstorm mission.

Breathing in deeply, he walked out of the room and towards the entrance of the interrogation room. The sound of the door alerted Roman and his head snapped up; waiting expectantly for the tattooed female to step through. The snarl that appeared on his face when Weller walked through set the tone, causing frustration to build inside of Weller.

"I said I would only speak with Jane." He shouted, slamming his hands down on the metal desk.

Weller continued to stare at him as he took his seat across the table, leaning back in his chair, propping his leg across his other knee. "That's kind of hard when she isn't here. So I will wait."

The shock and pain that crossed Roman's features, showed genuine concern. "What… what do you mean she isn't here?" His breathing rapidly increasing.

Weller shrugged nonchalantly, "She left. You must have surmised that by the fact that you've been scouting out her former safe house and the FBI building."

He watched as Roman was becoming more agitated.

"So how about you tell me more about this Shepherd." The radiating pain in his heart for acting so cold to the fact that Jane is missing; acting as though it means nothing is slowly killing him from the inside out. He was doing his damndest not to let it show. He wanted to get as much information out of Roman as he could.

Roman was shaking his head vehemently. He was muttering as he shook his head. "No… I can't do that… I can't… No… No...No…"

Weller watched as he was having what appeared to be a psychotic break-at least that's what it seemed like. Weller repositioned himself on the chair, planting his feet on the ground and leaning forward. "Roman…" he said sternly, trying to break his trance, "Roman, listen to me. What if you could help us find Jane?"

Roman quieted and stared at Weller, directly in the eyes. It was so silent, you would be able to hear a pin drop. The eerie silence caused the hairs on Weller's arms to stand on edge.

Naz handed him a file, "I thought that you may be interested in reading this. It's the Internal Affairs report, Jane's statement is in there." Her eyes bore into his, giving him a slight smirk as she released the file into his hold.

Even though it was incredibly thin, it felt like he was holding an anvil. Glancing down at it, he felt his pulse quicken. All different scenarios that had been playing in his head over the last two months could potentially become reality, dependent upon what was in the offending document.

He sulked his way to his office, starting to hate that such of

Naz gently knocked on his door. When he didn't acknowledge it, she poke her head in. "Staring at those is not going to bring her back, you know."

Weller's elbows propped up on the desk, his eyes closing. Anguished etched in his face.

"It's my fault that she's gone." He stated, thick with emotion.

Naz came around to sit on one of the chairs in front of his desk, "There's no way you could have anticipated her running after that ambush."

When Weller looked up at her, there was fire in his eyes, laced with guilt. "She believes that she's responsible for the loss of the…" he hesitated, still having difficulty coming to terms with the loss of the unborn baby. "I asked her to keep them safe. She feels as though she let me down."

Naz shifted her head, nodding slightly to acknowledge his reasoning. She stood and started towards the door. With a pause at the door, Kurt noticed that she started to fidget-not something that Naz did. "Do you think that is the only reason why she left?"

Weller's eyes squinted at her, "What are you saying?"

Her eyes bore into his, not backing down. "Think about it. Before that incident, things were not ideal with the team. There has been very little team cohesion since we brought her back to the FBI. She does not have anyone to rely on that she used to have. From what I've gathered, you were her rock before, when you were convinced she was Taylor." Naz finally broke eye contact with Weller, releasing a breath she was holding. "We will find her," Naz gave a sad smirk, "when she wants to be found."

And with that, she bowed her head and left his office. He sat there, exhaustion seeping into his bones.


End file.
